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Sour 16

graphic courtesy of michaela bassick

It was through the passing of continents
Where I was bestowed the age where the world would notice me
Spent inside a fortress amongst the city of love
Eyes fluttering to a close
And the world becomes still yet fast all around me in a blur
I envisioned a magical day
A day where I would pass through a portal to being a woman
Only it was spent in the crossing
I woke up feeling the anticipation of the magic
But never the magic itself
Am I so simple that I cannot fully bring my special day to mean something more than what I think?
Was I lied to by the shiny girls on television who this day would change the trajectory of their lives?
Was I not important?
Or was the day simply a childhood fad? A dream?
I was made to feel bad for making it seem lacklustre.
The apparent sweetness of this day had not grown bitter
Or spicy to where it would burn me inside out
Only it had become sour
Awkward 
And almost sweet